Beyond the Robes
by Cosmic Sky
Summary: The image she projected to the masses was one of the golden and blue robes of the Archbishop. It was daunting, but it was a task Rhea saw as her duty to bear. Of course, it came at a bit of a personal cost. Few people saw beyond them to the person, but there were exceptions. Among them was a certain professor, who made an effort to know her as a person, celebrate her as a person.


**Hey, everyone. I'm pretty sure it goes without saying what this one-shot will be centered on. Yes, I played the Silver Snow Route…and yes, I did romance Rhea at the end of it and I was pretty happy with how things turned out (first FE final boss that you can actually spare AND redeem through the power of love, I wasn't expecting that). As one of my favorite characters I decided to write a little piece on her (real-world) birthday. Given the trust and loneliness issues that she has, I'd say Rhea's a big goldmine of writing potential that I'm more than happy to take a dig at. **

**I do not own anything.**

* * *

_Before you close your eyes for good, how's about picking yourself up and making way to your room then dropping your body down in your bed? You know what a bed is, don't you? A nice soft piece of furniture that's made for sleeping. I hear it's quite preferable to sleeping on a wooden desk with your face drooling into some centuries-old history book. _

Byleth blinked in silent amusement at the spectral girl that sat atop the table not three feet from him. Her scantily clad legs nonchalantly kicked about as they daggled over the edge. "Interesting words coming from someone who speeds all their time sleeping on a stone throne."The reaction he got was an immediate puffing of the cheeks followed by a stream of light-hearted insults and denials. Byleth couldn't help but smile in amusement as he rose his head, a yawn leaving his stretched lips. Even as she attempted to maintain her offended pout, Sothis returned his smile. She was happy that he smiling altogether as the shadow of his father's death still loomed over him. Thankfully, that shadow had retracted somewhat.

His arms rose upward, his back arching as he came out of what had undoubtedly been a very much unexpected nap in the Monastery library. It wasn't the first time, and hopefully it wouldn't be the last.

"You know, this isn't a bad place to take a nap." He mused scratching his head as he looked around and saw it was just him.

_You sound like your sleepy head of a student, I believe your pupils are beginning to rub off on you. _Observed the barefoot girl, levitating away from the table with an amused smirk. _Still, this is not the ideal place for you to spend the night. Go, return to your room and lay your head against a pillow. I do not wish to hear you complaining of neck cramps the next day, especially since it is a holiday if I am right. Yes, Saint Seiros Day. _

_Saint…Seiros Day, _Repeated the blue-eyed swordsman seconds before he spied a folded up note sitting atop his stack of books. Unfolding it, he found it to be a note; of course, it politely asked him to close up when he awoke. He couldn't help but smirk, it was both polite and somewhat impolite. Practically everyone knew he was still grieving for his father and had given him his due space, even after he returned to work and put on a brave enough face. Then again, now that he had, he was still expecting to operate same as usual. That included closing up when he was the last one in any part of the Monastery, be it the gardens or the library. For the latter, it was amusing since last he heard, the Monastery had supposedly found a replacement for Tomas.

He tried not to dwell on the brown-garbed librarian who had indirectly helped set off the chain of events that ended with his father buried and the Monastery and everyone in it on edge. Even now, as they sat on the eve of another holiday, he knew that every student and teacher was quietly on guard, he was no different.

Byleth knew that quite well as his hands trembled with anger as he put the assorted books back where they belonged.

_You're not going to check in any out? No one will mind, you know. _Chimed in the goddess.

"I'm trying to build something of my own personal library." He calmly responded. It was clear that Sothis was trying to change the conversation, no doubt in an effort to ease the slow-burning flame within him. She'd grown into a habit of doing this since his father's death. It wasn't hard to see why…nor was it hard to appreciate the thought; it just showed that for all her tongue lashing, the green-haired goddess did indeed care about him, and arguably the rest of the continent based on her commentary. Byleth had grown used to such commentary, even finding some amusement in it. "I figured that since this place is my home…"

Sothis said nothing of the statement at first. _In that case, I'd lobby for a bigger room. You deserve just a tad better as you have proven yourself to be the best teacher here, as well as a favorite of the Archbishop. _

A slight blush spread across the swordsman's face at the specter's words. She snickered seeing such a reaction.

"How's about we wait on that until after the year's finished. And hopefully we have the peace and quiet that we all so desperately need. That said…a bigger room would be nice, I'd be able to build a nice little throne for you to sit on instead of hovering above my bed like some sort of looming specter."

_Do I sense a hint of sarcasm, my dim-witted associate? _Snickered the pointy-eared girl giving the former mercenary a half-hearted glare. _Need I remind you exactly who you are dealing with? _

"A talkative imp with the mentality of an impatient and excitable nature of a ten-year-old?"

The Goddess of Fódlan's cheeks inflated and her fists comically flew against the Ashen Demon as he continued to move about, cleaning up the library in the wee hours of the night. Of course, if anyone wondered in all they would have seen was the black-coated professor closing shop, perhaps even quietly humming to himself. Such a thing somewhat infuriated Sothis who continued to comedically wail against her host and only friend until at last she seemingly ran out of steam. It came seconds before her ears perked up and she called to the blue-haired swordsman that someone was coming.

His body tensing, he turned to the front door, watching the wooden double doors slid open and familiar face pop out.

"Professor Byleth?"

There was one solid blink as the Ashen Demon stared at the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros. "Rhea?" He questioned completely turning around to face her. Near immediately, he felt a warmth spread through him as her pink lips curved into a soft smile. "Came to check up on me?"

"A habit of mine, forgive me if I seem a bit…smothering, I-"

"It's fine." He cut off. Had anyone else been around, especially Catherine, they no doubt would have had something to say about his lack of formality. On the other hand, Rhea had told him he was rather pleased by it and welcomed it when they were alone. They were alone, here in the library after hours with none but the specter of a goddess watching them. Said goddess was unusually silent, no doubt having fallen back on observation. Byleth could only wonder when the commentary would begin flowing in. "I…fell asleep."

"I can see that." She giggled stepping closer to him. The warmth in his chest grew as she came within arm's length of him. Speaking of arms, hers reached out and softly caressed his right-side cheek. She pulled back, showing a smidgen of black ink that had no doubt come from his cheek. She giggled while he blushed. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, it simply shows your dedication…or rather…did you perhaps come here to get away?"

Byleth's shoulders sagged.

"Sweet child…it is…alright to continue to grieve. You are entitled to it, more so than anyone at the Monastery." She told him in that same soft voice that was meant to put those she spoke to at peace. For Byleth it only filled him with a sense of self-hatred and shame.

His hand rose to his cheek were the ink had left an imprint. "If my…if…if he were here…he would have told me to stop mopping around and get myself together. At least after the first week. Edelgard told me the same."

Rhea's brow furrowed. "With all due respect, one doesn't simply overcome the loss of a parent, especially when that parent has been…their one link to the world." It was quick, but Byleth saw it, the flash of deep-seated pain that no doubt caused the Archbishop's heart to crack. He knew it well for that same feeling had held a death grip on him since that accursed day.

Yet, staring into the light green eyes of the woman in front of him, he felt it begin to lessen. Basking in the residual warmth of her touch on his cheek, he felt the anger begin to die down. "But…he wasn't my own link to the world, or at least…he'd tell me he's not. I have other links to the world, things, people that I feel I must, no, I need to protect." He affirmed, his eyes swelling with a bright kindling that would have warmed even the coldest of nights.

"Your students." Came the immediate answer, which was met with an affirmative nod. She'd known from the beginning in one way or another that the Black Eagles would take to the stoic professor, even if he didn't show much emotion. He was after all, the second coming of the goddess whose compassion stretched to any and all people of Fódlan, reaching into even the most tightly guarded of hearts. Rhea had to admit, she did like taking time out of her day to read up on how the Adrestian students were doing under their new teacher; never was she disappointed in what she'd heard. Not even when she caught wind of the some of the more…odder adventures they'd gotten into such as defending a farm from what amounted to be wild monstrous vultures and searching for supposed lost treasure near the Empire-Alliance border. Without a doubt, strangeness seemed to follow them, or rather, the Professor and whoever he was with, wherever he went.

"Yes, there's them…but there's also everyone else at the Monastery like Cyril, Alois, Shamir, Catherine, the villagers, the merchants…everyone here at Garreg Mach." He explained, a genuine smile spreading across his face. Finally, he looked into the white-robed woman's bright green eyes. "Then there's you."

Her mouth split open and shock filled her leafy-green orbs as she stared at the young teacher. Briefly, Rhea wondered if she'd misheard him as she took a slight step back; luckily, her pointed ears were hidden behind her curtain of hair as they reactively twitched. "Y-You…see me, you…value me as a…connection to the world?"

Shoulders relaxed, he gave the Archbishop a near lazy smile, for him, it was one of relaxation. "Ultimately…if you hadn't made me a professor, I never would have made friends with anyone…not even, well…" A pink tint colored his cheeks as he shifted his gaze from the Archbishop, her own face still one of shock as she was still mulling over the words he'd just spoken. "If it weren't for you…I wouldn't have any connections to the world other than the sword and all the blood that I've spilled." His eyes temporarily glazed over, Byleth held up his right hand, his dominant hand. "You know…sometimes I think what happened to my father was…well, in a far-off land, there's this concept called karma. It dedicates that which we do will have repercussions in the future. Perform evil deeds and the world will respond in kind, perform good deeds…and you'll supposedly be rewarded. I've killed so many people that I have no idea how many, the first time I killed someone was when I was seven years old. Here I am…I don't know, twenty? Between now and then-"

"You have done what you must, and over the last year the goddess has brought you here and guided your hand in redeeming whatever wrong you may have committed." Though quiet, there was a silent intensity, almost defensive in Rhea's words. Quickly, her hand shot out and grabbed hold of the former mercenary's. The act deeply caught him by surprise as he stared at their two interlocked hands, one gloved in black and the other naked and soft. The duality was rather appropriate. "I know not of this karma…but whatever power it may hold, I'll argue it is second to that of the Goddess', whose favor you have more than earned with your actions. Sweet…no…Byleth," Saying his real name always felt…Rhea couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she couldn't exactly say that it was odd. In fact, a part of her had grown to somewhat like calling him by his name, just as she'd grown to enjoy it when he simply called her Rhea. "Whatever you may have done in the past…I would venture your work here at the Monastery has more than made up for it. Regarding Jeralt's untimely death, the fault lies with the wicked ones who lurk in the darkness, they are the ones deserving of punishment, and it will find them." The edge in her voice was harder, no doubt because the conversation had turned personal…on her end.

For the moment, her words seemed to pacify the Ashen Demon, or perhaps it was her touch. Yet again, the emptiness of the library was a blessing as there no doubt would have been quite a scandal if they were seen. She was the Archbishop, and he was a mere teacher, a former mercenary. That said, Rhea couldn't deny that Byleth had caught her interest, from the day she'd first laid eyes on him really. She did her best to keep such favoritism limited, but there were times when she didn't mind showing it; there were times when she knew that the bearer of the Crest of Flames needed someone. Rhea had decided that person would be her, first and foremost.

Up until now, Byleth didn't seem to mind too much. There had been points where he'd found her…forwardness a tad more than expected, but he adapted to everything like he always did. At the Monastery though, he realized that he was doing more than simply adapting-he was settling in. His father had taken note of that, it'd been the reason he was able to smile a bit more. His heart had begun to beat, and apparently his father's had begun to soften. Then, by a cruel twist of fate it had been silenced, permanently.

He wanted to ensure that didn't happen to anyone else, least of all the woman who held his hand in his. Still, there was much he wanted to aks her.

_Why don't you? You two are here, alone in the privacy of the library? What happens behind the bookshelves stays with the books? _Snickered the spectral girl who hovered by the side, watching the exchange between the Archbishop and the warrior.

Pushing the commentary aside as he'd done several times before, Byleth, somewhat reluctantly, withdrew his hand from hers. "I suppose it's time to head back. If I remember right, tomorrow's Saint Seiros day. Could I get away with going through the day looking sleep deprived?" he lightly jested getting a laugh out of the Archbishop.

There was another lively chuckle from the normally composed woman. Seeing it, hearing it, caused Byleth's lips to tick upward in a soft smile. "As amusing as that would be, I will assure that it will not come to pass. Come, I shall escort you back to your room and make sure you get to bed properly."

"Highly kind of you…but I think it should be the other way around." Politely countered the coat-wearing swordsman.

A single look in his eyes told Rhea that any attempt to change his mind likely wasn't going to work. Truth be told, a part of Rhea didn't have the heart to refuse him. She actually…didn't mind the opportunity to spend more time with him; she actually yearned for it, especially on a day like today.

It was close to an hour and a half past midnight, technically speaking, Saint Seiros day had already begun. Of course, it wouldn't truly begin until dawn broke over the horizon, until the sun began its climb into the sky and the sun bathed the lands in its rays. With winter fast approaching, every ray of light was to be appreciated for all it was worth. It'd be another thing to celebrate when the day truly began. Until then…well, Rhea liked to think she had something else to be happy about-the quiet serenity that came with her and the professor making their way across the courtyard.

They did so in secret, partially because they were quite aware of what would happen if they were seen together. Byleth didn't think he'd have it in him to stand the questioning, at least not when he'd just awoken from a nap in the library only to be found by the Archbishop, who he himself traveled beside. The Archbishop herself didn't seem all that off-put by the sneaking around; she in fact looked more…amused by it.

Byleth finally called her out on this as they crossed the bridge. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

There was a ghost of a smile on his face. "Sneaking around like a whisper in the middle of the night, trying not to be seen by anyone or anything…it's a little exciting, isn't it? Quite unbecoming of a holy woman such as yourself." He added, the ghost beginning to materialize.

She looked to the side, her own emotions whirling about as she tried to figure out what was the best way to respond. In truth, she hated loneliness…but Rhea knew she _wasn't_ alone. By her side was the one person she desired most in the world, and yet…

The night sky vanished behind the stone walls as he brought her through a backdoor entrance. Briefly, Rhea wondered when did Byleth discover the existence of a such a thing. Were he any other person, she might have looked to him with an air of suspicion and unease as such things could likely be used for more insidious purposes, but the person she was with would never in their wildest dreams think of bringing harm to the people of the Monastery, much less her.

She was saddened when they came to the door separating them, leading to her private bedchambers. "I owe you thanks, Byleth."

"I'm the one who should be thanking you." Yet another yawn escaped him; he personally blamed Sothis, who snickered beside him before prancing off to just around the corner. He knew for a fact that she was still listening in. After all, while the green-haired girl may have been out of sight, she was never out of mind, his mind. "I suppose I'll…see you tomorrow, Rhea."

"Yes, I suppose you will, goodnight, and sleep well." She said, somewhat nervously before slipping behind the door. Rhea stood there, her back pressed against the wood listening to his quiet footsteps as he made his way towards the stairs where he'd move downward. There was a brief wondering if he'd use the front door like everyone else or one of his backdoor entrances. The fact that such entries existed didn't frighten her as much as it probably should have. Again, that all could be owed to the fact that she had absolute faith in the person who'd escorted her back to her chambers.

While she had had many protectors over the years, very few had touched her heart in such a way as the mercenary-turned-professor had. The reason why was rather obvious, yet…something still ate at her, burned at her. There had been one other person who'd be so close to her…the first Emperor of the Adrestian Empire, Wilhem the First.

His face, his kind, yet determined face came to her mind and stayed there as she made herself ready for bed. She too would have duties she'd have to attend to in the morning. It was Saint Seiros Day…her birthday.

Irony was a funny, and at times a cruel thing. In a way, her birthday was celebrated…but it was the birthday of a false persona, one she associated with a more…chaotic and less than pleasant time of her life. Granted, that time hadn't been without its blessings, many of which she actually would have given anything and everything for.

She sat at the edge of the bed, her head on the always fluffy pillows she so commonly rested her head on.

"_This is…for me?" _

"_Well, it is your birthday, isn't it? I mean, Nabateans aren't above receiving birthday gifts, are they?"_

Rhea remembered how her hands shook as she took hold of the stone bracelet. Such bright blue gemstone reflected the light of the sun that was setting at their backs. Holding it up in the light she noticed the finely ingrained floral patterns within the stone. So simple, but upon closer examination, the fine craftsmanship shown through, the craftsmanship of the first Adrestian Emperor. Wilhem had claimed that it was one of the first pieces of jewelry he'd ever crafted for anyone other than his family members. That had made it special, and had made Rhea cherish it.

A thousand years had done their work in wearing the bracelet down, even with her magic shielding it. The blue luster of interlocked gemstones had faded as had the floral patterns. It was clear that time had left its mark…but Rhea knew nothing, if not struggling against time thus she kept the bracelet. It lay in a hidden drawer in her private chamber, away from the eyes of others, even her own brother and niece. It was something that belonged to her…to Rhea…to Seiros, perhaps her most treasured birthday gift.

_Enough of this. You've been here countless times. Hopefully, this time…will be the last. _The self-admonish. Rhea truly hoped this year, this birthday, would be the last that she spent alone. That was her wish as she allowed her head to pillows, sleep quickly claiming her not soon after.

* * *

As was the law of nature, the sun rose, formally starting the next day, Saint Seiros Day. Naturally, it went celebrated, as it had been with her brothers, the other Saints. For many, it was the opportunity needed to move on from the gloomy shadow that had been cast by Jeralt's murder, as well as the student disappearances that had been solved in the cruelest way imaginable.

Rhea was happy to see the smiling faces of those who inhabited the Monastery, especially the students and the academy's newest professor.

At least one birthday wish of hers had been realized-the peace and tranquility for her home, if only for a day.

So far, it had an enjoyable day, a pleasant day. It arguably reached its zenith when she arrived at the cathedral to hear the choir sing for her, the Archbishop as well as several other Church officials who'd traveled to the Monastery to celebrate Saint Seiros day.

What made it special was the person leading the choir in its singing.

Briefly, the former mercenary's eyes rose spying her amongst the audience. If she waved at him, there was a chance someone would notice, so Rhea merely gave him a pointed smile. It was directed at no one but him, and he of course caught it.

He'd already had good enough reasons to put his all into his singing, the long hours put in by his students and his comrades that chose to join in the choir. In that moment, the Ashen Demon gained another one-the smile of the Archbishop who stood up front.

The thousand-year-old woman received yet another happy gift on her birthday, one that put her secretly weary soul at ease.

_Your voice…oh, how it hasn't changed. How it still feels me with so much ease…mother…my dear…_

The rest of the voices were complimentary to the bearer of the Crest of Flames. She noticed a few disparities in his voice, but Rhea found something slight humorous in the mistakes made. He had been at the Monastery for less than a year so it was to be expected he wasn't a marvelous singer, still, he was making headway.

Perhaps sometime in the near future, she could pull himself and give him some extra help. Personally, she saw it as returning the favor.

Light turned to darkness, the glow of the sun gradually faded allowing for the stars to come out and light up the deep dark night sky. Even then, things didn't end, doubly so considering that the peace of the day had lifted everyone's spirits. Many liked to say that Saint Seiros himself had blessed the Monastery. Rhea felt herself smile, if only a little. If she had such power, she would have eternally blessed the Monastery and the surrounding lands to never known strife and agony.

Such things were beyond her though, only one being in all the land could bring about such a miracle. Rhea liked to believe, as she lived out yet another year of existence, that she might have been a step closer to bringing that being back. In the meantime, Rhea could say for the first time in years she'd truly enjoyed herself.

The reasons lay with the blue-haired professor that was no doubt off to his own devices, having done his part in the celebrations.

Pushing open the door to her room, she took in a quick whiff, relaxation overcoming her as she was back in the safety and confines of her private chamber. Her relief came to a sudden halt as she looked onto the bed and found a surprise waiting for her, one that nearly stopped her heart dead in its supernatural rhythm.

Lying atop the mattress was a bouquet of flowers, the type usually handed out for birthdays and other celebrations. That…and something else, something that confused her greatly. Legs shaking, Rhea walked over and picked up the bottle, taking notice of the folded-up note beside the bottle. Rhea's breath caught in her throat as she unfolded the letter, her heart quickly gaining a frantic beat as she read the contents of the letter.

_Since personally wishing you happy birthday would see a bit…awkward in the midst of all of this, I'm hoping this will do instead. One day, I would like to be there to wish you happy birthday in person, Rhea. Oh, and you don't have to try out the shampoo if you don't want to. Honestly, I had no idea what I was doing and goddess-forbid me asking anyone and them getting the wrong idea, or worse, rumors spreading. Hopefully, you won't find it too offensive. And I'm hoping you'll keep me sneaking into your room a secret. I promise, I won't make it a habit._

_Sincerely, Byleth Eisner_

Before she knew it, she'd hit the bed, her Crest Stone of a heart pulsing, beating, within her chest like drum as she read and re-read the letter. Heat gradually began to rush into her cheeks as well as swirl about in the pit of her stomach. It was…tender, comforting. Gradually, her eyes moved between the banquet of flowers, the letter, and the bottle of shampoo that lay just before her, having slipped from her grip and thankfully landed on the bed.

"Byleth…Byleth…" She whispered again and again, each time the pulsing in her chest grew stronger and warmer. "You…sent these…to me…to me for my…" The memory of the cathedral came back, this time with clarity she hadn't had before. The voice…the voice was most certainly male. Normally, it was so deadpan and detached…but over time that had changed. It had gained emotion and life. She'd treasured that life, more so than she was willing to admit, even in private such as this.

He'd been the one she'd found in the library, who'd comforted him as best she could. He had been the one to sing to her…and now gave her this modest gift.

She knew that Byleth was without a doubt still working through his own grief, grief he was in every way entitled to.

And yet he'd taken the time to look to comfort her.

"Oh…Byleth," His name, she'd found herself thinking of it more and more as she clenched the teal-colored bottle against her chest. Burning within her was a warm flame, a candle-like blaze that offered her salvation and comfort. Falling back into the headrest, she cradled the bottle and the letter. "Look at me…one thousand and thirty-four years old and here I am…looking so much like a girl mired in a fairy tale.

She hadn't expected much from this birthday, one that was celebrated by so few save for those who knew her, and even then fewer knew the true story of her identity.

The Ashen Demon knew next to nothing about her, yet he'd walked right into her heart, carrying with him such luminous torch with him. Such a thing was perhaps the best birthday gift she could have asked for.

* * *

That flame help keep her going when it all fell apart, when everything she'd strove to build would come crashing down on her. The descendant of the first human being she'd ever come to call a friend betrayed her ancestor and the rest of Fódlan. Rhea's rage had been great, so great that had she not been held back, she would have torn the girl's head from her shoulders herself. Instead, she'd channeled her anger and ordered the former mercenary to do so for her. He'd attempted to follow through, but fate decreed that the leader of the Black Eagles wouldn't die that day. She escaped. And then returned marching at the head of an imperial army with the intent of putting the Church of Seiros and Rhea herself to the flame.

No one went without a fight, least of all her…and the person who'd chosen to stand beside her through it all.

He had not awakened, her _Mother _had not awoken.

And yet, he still defended her, tossing aside his own safety to safeguard hers. He saw her take flight as her true draconic self.

And he still came back for her.

He searched for her.

He found her and tended to her.

He cried as he swung her mother's remains at her, having no choice but to stop her when her power grew too strong and her mind smashed into a thousand pieces.

In her heart, Rhea believed this would be it, when she would finally die and be reunited with her mother and the rest of her people. Instead, she's awoken…and he was there.

She reached up and held onto him, holding him as tightly as possible. He held her back, whispering soothing words to her, telling her that it was over. They'd been victorious, that they were safe, that she was alive and so too was he.

That was the thing she was thankful for, more thankful than anything and everything else she'd ever been in her entire life. She promised herself his presence, _Byleth's _presence was all she needed. Was all she'd ever ask for and require.

"…If we don't get up, there's a chance we'll end up missing out on the celebrations. It is your birthday, after all."

Giggling, she raised one arm and wrapped it around his neck. His own was coiled around her waist, his chest pressing against her back. Rhea's leafy green eyes opened, her head turning allowing her to stare into the similarly-colored orbs of her king and husband, the ruler of all of Fódlan.

"Just for today…can we…sleep in a little bit longer, my love?"

Byleth chuckled as he leaned down and kissed her. Rhea held him in place, deeply enjoying the good morning kiss that was bestowed upon her. Right then and there, it was the best birthday gift she could have asked for. During the brief separation for air, she completely turned her body around, both arms wrapping around his neck the flying into yet another fiery kiss. She felt him chuckle while tightening his grip around her waist. It ended with her on top, stealing away countless kisses from her husband until the swordsman moved one of his hands just a tad further down south. Rhea gasped, giving Byleth the opening he needed to take control of things. The Archbishop was both impressed and aroused, quickly yielding control to him until once more they separated for air.

He looked to her with eyes cackling with joy and amusement. "Who am I to resist the birthday wish of my beloved queen? Or shall I say, the first of her wishes for the day?"

Already, he'd fulfilled one, the most important one. Sighing in gratitude as the first rays of light stretched through the curtains, Rhea let herself fall against his chest. Tenderly, he held her while falling back, hitting the bed with a soft thud. Rhea purred in delight feeling the warmth of his body meddle with hers.

"Happy birthday, Rhea."

For the first time in centuries, the Sky Dragon truly felt like the "happy" part of the statement had been fulfilled, and would continue to be so in the near future as Fódlan into a new age.

* * *

**Rhea's birthday falling on the same day as Saint Seiros, I'm sure most people in-story would chalk that up to a coincidence. On the other hand, I do imagine it's quite…perplexing having people celebrating your heroic alter ego, but very few people celebrating YOU as a person, which even fewer people know about. As Byleth has the chance to get closer to Rhea and allow her to open up, I thought I'd take a stab at that. This won't be my last time writing for the two as I find the relationship between Byleth and Rhea pretty interesting and I would like to explore it. And maybe see if I can do a rewrite of the Silver Snow route featuring Rhea as an actual Lord instead of the dismal in distress (at least for 80% of the story). **


End file.
